On the Healing Powers of Chocolate
by Crazed Fuzzle
Summary: In which we take a look into the history of our favorite werewolf's affinity for chocolate.


A/N: What inspired this fic is the fact that I am currently in the midst of an atrocious cold, and decided I wanted to buy some really, really dark chocolate. Miraculously, I am feeling lots and lots and lots better now, only about an hour after consuming this magical medicine. So. Here is my tribute to Remus and his alleged chocolate obsession.

On the Healing Properties of Chocolate

It wasn't until he met James and Sirius that Remus began to seriously believe in the healing powers of chocolate. Of course, every child's dream was that chocolate _could_ cure everything, but it had been Remus's in particular. It was what his parents had tried to fool him into believing after every painful transformation, like some parents manage to convince their children that kissing an injury "makes it all better."

Unfortunately, his parents' technique had never really seemed to work further than supplying him something pleasant to distract him. Sadly he had been too clever to think that just because he wasn't paying attention the pain was gone.

The Marauders, however, changed everything. They always had, and he supposed that they always would.

It all began when, in fall of first year, he was suffering from a legitimate cold rather than an imaginary one. And although it made his absences more believable, he did not appreciate it in the slightest.

He had been suffering under a mountain of tissues and sneezing so hard that tears were leaking out of his eyes when Sirius found him.

"Remus, mate, looks like you could use a little pick-me-up," said the black-haired wizard, and they were off in a whirlwind search for chocolate. Where they eventually came up with it, the young werewolf wasn't quite sure, being as he was suffering probably the worst cold of his life and he was being dragged around the castle at an alarming rate. However, he got the distinct impression that his friends had managed to procure it from the secret stashes of Albus Dumbledore himself (whether voluntarily given or not he was not quite sure; he wouldn't rule out either possibility).

He was at first dubious; chocolate had bad memories for him. However, with his first bite all connections to his lycanthropy disappeared, and he was in pure, sugary-sweet bliss. He was still aware of the stuffy nose and unpleasant tingling that foretold many sneezes to come, but the chocolate was just the most incredible mix of bitter and sweet and _good_ that it was impossible for him to care much.

A quarter of an hour later, he found himself liable to snicker at the smallest things, such as the curious ramblings of James on the mysterious subject of Muggle telephones. He also began to run into things such as walls almost regularly and bring up completely irrelevant points, like the fact that it was strange that trees weren't electrocuted by the power lines that Muggles erected while people and animals could be.

In short, Remus was drunk. On chocolate.

And despite the odd state of his mind, he was able to note somewhat detachedly that he seemed not to be sneezing quite as much anymore.

This experience was enough to convince him that the sweet was a magical remedy indeed. As time passed, he only became more and more certain that this was the absolute truth.

Remus managed to influence his friends to have chocolate ready when ever he happened to return from the hospital wing, at least when that had been his alibi. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it appeared as though his injuries healed themselves much faster with caffeine in the mix.

There had been an incident in third year in which Peter had caught unicorn fever. This disease was known for being dangerous and occasionally fatal, and Peter had it bad. The full moon occurred a few days after he had caught it, and by this time Remus had stockpiled some emergency rations by his customary bed for particularly bad transformations. When Madam Pomfrey hadn't been looking, he managed to slip some of his supply to his afflicted friend. A few hours later, the fever broke.

There was that time in fifth year when James had been feeling particularly depressed by Lily's constant rejection. By this time, Prongs had his heart set on the fiery red-head but was unable to do anything to persuade her to like him. This hurt him. Badly. However, a bar of Remus's best chocolate and a few encouraging words from his friends seemed to have been enough to bring him out of his slump.

There were always those tests that Sirius chronically forgot to study for. When quizzed the night before, he could answer horrifyingly few of the questions directed his way. However, with a little chocolate in his stomach before the test, he always managed to ace them—without cheating, the young man insisted.

And who could count the number of times that chocolate had managed to save the Marauders from the horrors of pre-menstrual females? Each had their own experiences with accidentally agitating one of these creatures, whether girlfriend or simple acquaintance. No matter what happened, barring only a few very serious cases, a box of chocolates was enough to bring the upset girl from her despondency (or stop the yelling, which Sirius insisted was the most important use chocolate _had_).

In his time, Remus Lupin became known among his classmates and friends as a bit of a chocolate connoisseur. He was the one to go to if you wanted to know what kind to get your girlfriend, what kind you wanted if you desired to become hyperactive beyond belief (Remus himself had gotten to the point where this kind only made him seem a tad tipsy rather than full-out inebriated), and what kind was good for bringing your mood up a bit. He knew each and every kind of chocolate at Honeyduke's by heart, and likewise what each was good for.

The werewolf also acquired quite a repertoire of facts about the substance. He could tell you, for example, that it was particularly effective for dispelling the effects of dementors, and was in fact used for this purpose by even the best medi-witches.

He found that the ancient communities of Central and South America, both magical and not, shared his beliefs in the powers of the cacao bean. Good for them, he thought. The invading Europeans had been fools to disregard that particular piece of lore.

He even went so far as to venture into the world of Muggle knowledge. He could ramble on and on about the fact that science had found that chocolate released endorphins in the brain that caused a lift in spirits and often the sensation of being in love, never mind the fact that magic went against all the known laws of science.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? One of his favorite books, despite the fact that it was written for Muggle children. He frankly admired Willy Wonka, who seemed to truly understand the value of a good candy bar. He had even gone out of his way to understand "movies" so that he could watch the films made from the book.

Some might have called Remus obsessive. He didn't particularly mind, although as the years passed he slowly let his fixation on chocolate fade into the background. He learned to keep his fascination to himself, until he reached the point that many thought that it had only been a fad. Nevertheless, he remained the person to come to if anyone needed to know anything on the topic.

And no matter what anyone thought, Remus stayed a firm believer in the healing powers of chocolate. Chocolate was the ultimate remedy. Mind, soul, and body, chocolate could fix just about anything.


End file.
